Expédition Mortelle (English ver)
by Miry-0-chan
Summary: As they travel west to the Pacific coast, Flynn and Yuri find themselves caught in a storm that may be fatal to them. Fluri, sort of.


Hello !

It was a little while since I last posted anything but this story did not really give me the choice: it was trotting in my head for a while and I could not concentrate on my other fics because of it. So I took the time to write it. I hope you'll like it. ;)

It is the first time I write a story this long all by myself in English (I have no beta reader for the English version). I hope there is not too much mistakes. I apologies in advance if it's the case.

By the way, the story is strongly inspired by the song "Diamant Dort" written by the French group Gold, which I listened continuously for a few days. I was also inspired and encouraged by the last chapter of Arabian Night by Midori Yume (Kal & Eliandre). 

**Disclaimer** : Tales of Vesperia, Flynn, Yuri, etc. belong to Namco Bandai.

**Précision** : Fluri if you want to see it that way, otherwise no pairing. :)

**Expédition Mortelle**

Saint Louis, on the Mississippi, starting point for caravans, hopes and farewells.  
A new wagon train was preparing to take the road and the city was in turmoil; a strange atmosphere, festive but gloomy, was spreading in the streets. Trips to the West were of those you did not return from, the road far too dangerous to be practiced in the opposite direction once you're arrived. Smiles and tears mingled with hugs and farewells, while city's officials held speeches. In front of them, two experienced guides had the mission to lead the settlers safely to the Pacific coast. Both were among the few who returned to the East, giving their skills an invaluable value; each colonist had to pay an astounding amount of money to join the convoy. At least for most of them. Those who had been engaged as convoy guards, such as Yuri Lowell or Flynn Scifo, had been exempted from any payment. A chance for the two men who could never have taken part in the trip otherwise. In return, they had to be content with the bare necessities: the clothes they wore, their horses, their dog Repede, that could be very useful to the group, and their weapons.

Perched on his black spotted with gray appaloosa, Yuri was watching the crowd, his dark eyes protected from the sun by his broad-brimmed hat. Most settlers worked energetically around the wagons covered with white cloths, while the townspeople sent messages of support. Some children from the neighborhood had come to bring some carrots or other treats to the horses and mules on which the success of this trip depended.  
Finally, after what seemed to be hours, the long column of wagons started to move and gradually left the main street of Saint Louis in a deafening hubbub. The dust raised by the departure tickled his nostrils and dried up his airways. An unpleasant sensation that he tried to conceal with a quid, without much success.  
Once the convoy drove out of the city, Yuri casted a sideglance at Flynn, his companion, who was at his height but on the other side of the caravan. Perfect as usual, at least in appearance, Flynn did not show any sign of disturbance. He stood firmly on his saddle, upright and unyielding, his cerulean blue eyes fixed on the horizon. A reassuring posture for the settlers, who did not perceive the flaws of his posture. This was not the case for Yuri: he had known his blond-haired companion since childhood and they had shared everything, good times as well as bad ones. So his friend was an easy book to read for him; Flynn was tense, as indicated by his firmly clenched jaw or his left hand, which gripped the pommel of his saddle a little too hard.  
Yuri spit out some of the quid that he still had in his mouth and quietly whistled Repede, who was trotting along beside him. With a head gesture, he ordered him to cross the convoy and join his other master. The animal seemed to hesitate a moment, then rushed into the dust and disappeared.  
Moments later, Yuri risked another glance at his blond companion and noticed that his posture had relaxed somewhat: his jaw was much less tense, like his general attitude. The brown rider smiled, then stared back at the horizon. The trip was going to be long and hard, but they were all there for each other. It could only make it more pleasant.

**XxXxX**

It was common knowledge that mountain passes were the most difficult and dangerous parts of the trip. Much more than crossing the great plains where the troop could be attacked at any time by wild animals, bandits or Natives.

Deep into the Rockies, it was imperative to know the exact way to the passes passable by the carriages, in order to waste as little time as possible. The blizzard, like the local wildlife, was ruthless and the slightest mistake was often fatal. Once there, it was almost impossible to survive without experienced guides, unless you were very lucky. From their competence depended the survival of all.  
Scammers were usually revealed during this part of the journey. The smart ones fled by night, leaving the group before starting the ascent. But some, like Cumore and Zagi, had the ambition to find new passages to give them their names, like great explorers like Lewis and Clark. They did not have the slightest awareness of the danger, just an outrageous ambition.

Flynn and Yuri, as well as the settlers, had not noticed it until it was too late, when they came accross a giant wall of ice and snow which blocked their way forward. The blizzard blew more and more violently, to the point that it was impossible to light any twig to warm up. Turning back was not an option either; the road was narrow and it was difficult to see anything with the snow falling down.  
After some explorations, the group finally found a kind of promontory where they could form a protective circle with the remaining carts. It was not luxurious but it had at least the merit of cutting of the wind and allowing survivors to make fire.  
Hours passed without either of the guides taking a decision on what to do. Should they wait? Leave despite the risks? The life of the members of the expedition was suspended to their decision. But when night fell, they made the worst one possible: they fled, leaving the settlers to their fate.

Yuri was on duty that night. Sitting cross-legged ans leaning against the wheel of one of the wagons, he was warming up as best as he could with Repede at his side, when the animal suddenly raised his head. Surprised, the young man scrutinized the surroundings with an inquisitive look, without noticing anything unusual. However, he remained focused: with the screaming wind, it was difficult for him to hear any sound clearly, but it was not for his faithful four-legged friend. The latter had all his trust and if he was alert, it was because something was wrong. Slowly, the guard got up and discreetly ordered his dog to guide him to the source of potential trouble. Without hesitation, Repede went out of the camp, the brown hair male on his heels.  
It was there that Yuri saw them: the two guides had took their horses out of the camp and were saddling them to leave. Outraged, the guard took out his revolver, a six-shooter, and advanced towards the two crooks. Zagi was the first to see him and he took out his own weapon, while Cumore climbed on his saddle. The first one fired a shot in the direction of Yuri and narrowly missed him, while the second took his leave.  
Disgusted and furious, Yuri tried to stop him by shooting his horse but with this blizzard, it was hard to hit the mark. He saw only shadows.

A new shot rang out in the mountain and the brunette felt a horrible burning sensation in his left leg, a few inches above his knee. He stifled a cry of pain and briefly lost his balance. Repede, who was running toward the two crooks, immediately returned to him. After a brief pat on his head to assure him that everything was fine, Yuri got up in time to see Zagi jump on his own horse and rode after Cumore.  
Without really taking any time to think straight, the guard chase after them, Repede at his side.

**XxXxX**

Lying under one of the carts, Flynn had just closed his eyes when a sharp and brief noise pulled him from his drowsiness. For a moment, he thought he had dreamed and glanced at the wheel where Yuri had leaned a little earlier to stand guard. He saw no one. A second strange noise echoed in the night. He had not dreamed, it was gunshots!  
Quickly, the blond got up and grabbed the holster he had placed next to him for the night, before heading to the origin of the shots. With the wind, it was difficult for him to find his way properly, but he quickly perceived shadows and a third shot indicated that he was in the right direction. The figure closest to him fell on his knees and he suddenly felt his heart fail a beat: that shadow was Yuri's, unmistakable with his long hair fluttering in the blizzard. He also recognized the silhouette of Repede at his side.  
When he saw him get up without much difficulty, he breathed a sigh of relief but his respite was short-lived: Yuri had just rushed in pursuit of those who had attacked. Without any visibility, without any horses and probably injured. A pure suicide in this inhospitable mountain.  
Flynn immediately followed his friend's shadow with the intention of bringing him back before it was too late.

**XxXxX**

The blond man only managed to catch up with his companion after more than an hour of pursuit in the cold and the snow. He was frozen and almost did not feel his toes anymore despite the thick leather boots he was wearing. His nose had turned completely red, like his ears, and he was sniffing compulsively. Because of the wind which had been screaming for too long, he could hardly hear any sound anymore either. In fact, he did not perceive anything anymore: the biting frost had anesthetized his skin and his stuffy nose did not allow him to distinguish even the slightest smell. To be completely honest with himself, he did not even know how he managed to put one foot in front of the other.

His eyes, however, remained resolutely fixed on the two shadows in front of him. His goal. The only reason he still clung to life with all he had left.  
When the tallest shadow in front of him collapsed, he suddenly seemed to forget everything around him. Finding a kind of second breath, he began to run towards his companions with the force of despair.  
Yuri had fallen on his side and seemed unconscious, his dark long hair forming a black halo around his skull. Repede was trying to gently lift one of his arm with his nose, as he did every morning to wake him up.

Arriving at their height, Flynn knelt quickly next to his friend and turned him towards himself to have a better view of his face. Yuri's pale complexion mingled with the powder snow on which he lay and Flynn thought for a moment that he was dead. That it was too late. He reassured himself, however, watching the small puffs of hot breath escaping from his mouth.  
The blond took his companion in his arms, a futile attempt to warm him up, before noticing his leg injury. The blood had stopped flowing for a long time thanks to the cold, but it was not excluded that the wound had been infected during the pursuit. He absolutely had to take Yuri back to a safe place and have it examined by an apothecary or a doctor.  
But where to find a safe place? Flynn could almost no longer distinguish his own footprints. Where was the camp? Could he go back to it in his own condition? By carrying Yuri at that ...

Anyway, he really had no choice but to try. Flynn hugged his companion one last time, their icy lips brushing against each others, then he settled him on his back as best he could, taking care of his injured leg. He then got up painfully, bent over by weight and effort. Slowly, with caution, he turned back, Repede showing the way. But as time passed by, it was more and more difficult for him to put one foot in front of the other. He could not even feel his body anymore, completely numb with the cold except for the part in contact with Yuri. The latter stirred from time to time but the blond did not consider him sufficiently conscious to move by himself. He was already struggling enough himself and he had not been shot!  
Suddenly, the blizzard redoubled and Flynn fell, his legs unable to hold him any longer. Fortunately, his fall, and Yuri's as a matter of fact, was dampened by the thick layer of snow that was almost reaching his pelvis. At least one positive element in their worrying situation.  
Out of strenght, the blond crawled to his companion. The latter was still breathing, but for how much longer?

Flynn hugged him again. He wouldn't give up on him but he started to realise that the mountain might well be their last home to the both of them. Still, he tried to get up again. With so little strenght left, he could not carry Yuri anymore, but he could still drag him. With the thickness of the snow, there was not much risk anymay.  
Pulling Yuri by his armpit, he started painfully to walk again. Around him, everything seemed blurry. He could not even distinguish Repede, who was close by, he was sure of it.  
He walked like this, in a state of semi-consciousness, during what seemed to be hours. Until one of his feet slips over something, probably a rock, and he falls back into the snow, dragging Yuri with him once more.  
Panting, he let go of his companion briefly to wipe away the tears of frustration that dawned at the corners of his eyelids. It was not the time to cry, especially not by this cold! He no longer had any feelings on his cheeks, he did not need to add ice on top of everything.  
He angrily let his arm fall back into the thick layer of snow. Had he made all these efforts in vain? Was that his limit?  
Lost in despair, he looked up at the gray, cloud-laden sky, almost hoping for a miracle he knew was impossible.  
Slowly, he stopped fighting the cold and let his heavy eyelids close, his left hand still firmly squeezing Yuri's shoulder. At least they were together.

Far, far away, he could perceive the low roar of Repede, as if the animal scolded him for giving up. He sank shortly after into unconsciousness.

**XxXxX**

A strange, ethereal figure, advanced slowly through the snow towards the duo that lay there. Around it, the blizzard seemed nonexistent, extinguished. At his approach, the animal with the young boys growled quietly. It was strange that the animal had not fled already, if only by survival instinct. That said, the figure, or rather the man, had never seen humans acting like that in the heart of his mountains. These two had particularly intrigued him, to the point that he had left his dormant form to observe them more closely.  
Both were dying, he was well aware of it, and he also knew that it was largely because of his blizzard. Should he save them? He had already took so many lives, it would only be another two.

However, something in him, which he had not felt for centuries, pushed him to act. With a gesture, he stopped the blizzard, surprising the dog which remained a few feets away from him. He then cautiously approached the boys: the one with the long dark hair was in the worst shape. Carefully, he released him from the embrace of his partner then he led him to a deep and uninhabited cave that was nearby. From time to time, he had to push away the dog who, although less hostile towards him, was still suspicious. He returned shortly after to recover the second man and put him as comfortably as possible beside his companion. The dog, who had followed him during all this process, finally settled at their feet.  
Cautiously, both for himself and for his "hosts", he began to light a fire to warm them up. The task was complex: he was a spirit of ice, and heat was not really his thing. He finally succeeds, filling the rocky space with a soft light.  
In this faint light, the two boys appeared as pale as him, which he knew was not really good for humans. Unfortunately, he did not see how to fix it. Most of the time, he did not really interact with them. Sometimes, a few shamans visited him, to honor him or to implore his clemency during a migration. His relationship with men stood there.  
From the corner of his eye, he noticed that one of the two boys, the golden-haired one, had curled up on himself, shuddering. He then noticed his frostbite as well as the traces of frost on his face and in his hair. For that at least, he could help them. After all the cold was his specialty.

Using his magic, he began to remove all traces of frost from the bodies of the two boys, as well as from their animal's fur, who gave him an approving and grateful look. Little by little, the blond stopped shuddering and the duo even regained some colors. Their benefactor brought them closer to the fire and then headed for the entrance of the cave.  
Before leaving, he shot a look back. The dog, who had not leave his place at the feet of his masters, looked at him curiously. The two young men had not regained consciousness but their hands were joined, as if to ensure that the other was still there.

For the first time in centuries, Duke let a slight smile stretch his lips. He had done what he could to help them survive and he now knew it was a decision he would not regret.  
Tranquilized, the spirit of ice left the cave, abandoning these three souls who managed to touch his very core for the first time in a long, very long time.

**XxXxX**

Thx for reading. Feel free to review. ;)


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